The email I deleted (but can't stop thinking about)

The email I received that is the topic of today’s post had one thing going for it: they’d spelled my name correctly.

I receive a lot of inbound requests for my time, and you’d be surprised how many ask me for a favour while addressing me as Amanda, Samantha, or some other variation of my actual name.

As someone who writes about energy management (did I mention I have a new book coming out called The Energy Game, available for pre-order now?), I’ve done a lot of thinking about boundaries. After spending years being not great at managing my own, I’ve become fairly effective. Part of that is having clear filters for what I say yes to when someone emails asking for my time without offering to pay for it:

• Do I have a personal relationship with them? Are they a past (or current) client?

• Am I uniquely placed to help?

• Have they called me Amantha?

In this particular case, the ask was from someone I didnt know, asking me to have a 30-minute mentoring session with one of his mentees (also someone I didn’t know). He wrote: “May I please ask if she could have a coffee with you – simply to listen to how you got to where you are today?”

The requester fit exactly one of my 3 criteria (he had indeed called me Amantha). So I wrote back:

“Thanks for the reach out. My diary is choccas and I’m saying no to any request right now that doesn’t align with my immediate goals.”

I thought that would be the last I’d hear from him. Instead, I was met with a swift reply. It detailed a list of all the people he was mentoring, a list of all his professional responsibilities, and the total number of people he had mentored during his career (it was very high and specific). Reading between the lines, it was basically telling me what a bad, selfish person I was for saying no, framed as a way to guilt me into saying yes.

I was pretty shocked. My instinct was to write back with a list of MY professional (and personal) responsibilities because (a) I am competitive and (b) I felt the need to defend my position. But I stopped myself. What good would that serve? So I deleted the email.

But clearly, I am still thinking about it. (And writing about it.)

I think I made the right call, but tell me in the comments: what do you think?

In the same months that I was protecting my time with such conviction, I’ve been reaching out to people left, right and centre asking for favours. Bigger ones than a 30-minute chat.

One of the big ones has been asking people to provide a testimonial for The Energy Game. As any writer will tell you, having some top-notch quotes from well-known people on your book matters. It’s a huge ask because they have to spend several hours reading your book. I literally had to psyche myself up to send every one of those emails or voice messages. I knew most of these people (some not especially well, but well enough). And almost every one of them said yes.

There were also a handful I’d never met who I reached out to: people I admired from afar and wrote to anyway. A couple of them were kind enough to say yes. They really didn’t have to.

So what’s the difference between the mentoring email and the testimonial asks?

A few things, actually. These are three things I thought about before making my asks:

First, I knew most of the people I asked, or had a clear reason for reaching out to the ones I didn’t. I wasn’t cold-pitching strangers on the basis that I could type their name correctly.

Second, I made it easy to say no. I didn’t follow up a refusal with a guilt trip dressed up as a humble-brag. I took the risk of asking, and I was prepared to wear a “no” with grace. (Whenever I’m making a big ask, I’ll typically tell people that a quick ‘no’ is a good ‘no’, to help give them a polite escape route.)

Third, I did my homework. Every person I reached out to, I could explain exactly why I was asking them. Not a blanket request fired off to anyone with a profile. Each message made it clear I’d read their work, understood their perspective, and thought they’d connect with something in the book.

In The Energy Game, I write a lot about boundaries. One of the strategies I cover is the Yes Triage: a 3-question test for incoming requests.

• Does this align with my current priorities?

• Do I have the energy to do it well?

• Am I saying yes from enthusiasm rather than fear or guilt?

The mentoring email failed on all 3 counts.

The Yes Triage cuts both ways. Use it when you’re deciding what to send, and also when you’re deciding what to accept. And if someone guilt-trips you for the no? Delete the email. You may well still be thinking about it a week later, but at least you’ll have something to write about.